


love in every noodle

by Dresupi



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Awesome Darcy Lewis, Darcy Lewis is the fandom bicycle and I love it, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gift Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Multi, POV Alternating, POV Multiple, Polyamory, Prompt Fill, SHIP DARCY LEWIS WITH ALL THE THINGS, Sick Character, Sickfic, Soup, Sweet, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, sick Darcy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2019-01-30 09:04:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12650454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dresupi/pseuds/Dresupi
Summary: Darcy is having a terrible week and it's only Tuesday.  But the clincher is the realization that she's sick with the flu and has to cancel her date with her favorite fellas.Of course the cancelling never happens, but that's not a bad thing.





	love in every noodle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nobutsiriuslywhat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nobutsiriuslywhat/gifts).



> Enjoy some sick!Darcy, a lean-mean-homemade-noodle-making Bucky Barnes, and some Star-Spangled-Couch Cuddles! <3

Darcy sighed heavily as the apple she’d been balancing on top of the laptop rolled to the floor with a soft splat.

Why couldn’t Jane have a lightweight laptop?  Something Darcy could hold in one hand and munch an apple with the other?    

“An apple a day keeps the doctor away…” she muttered, sniffing hard as she inspected the damaged side of the fruit, trying to decide if it was worth it to cut it away or if she should just toss it into the compost bin.  It was a few shakes past bruised.  And that was putting it mildly.

This cold felt wretched.  It was probably way past an apple’s purported healing abilities, if she was being honest.  Her forehead felt hot.  Her body ached. She felt awful.   

Darcy knew she was totally in denial about this just being a cold, too. Did it still count as denial if she knew she was in it?   

Anywho, a troupe of snot-nosed, sniffly, absolutely _adorable_ kids had come through the safer parts of the lab the previous Friday, and while it was super fun showing them around, she was now paying for that fun in spades.  

Flu.  Yikes.  

Influenza.  

She was likely suffering from the disease that had killed millions.  Was it millions?  Probably millions.  

She was likely suffering from the disease that had killed _probably_ millions.  

At least she’d gotten a vaccine.  So it wouldn’t be _as_ bad.  

But she was still feeling icky.  Off her game. She had dropped everything she’d picked up today… she’d gotten snippy with her mom on the phone… Yesterday, she’d totally fallen asleep on her desk while Jane was talking to her.  

Ughh.  

Darcy was having a terrible week.  

And it was only Tuesday.  

She tossed the apple into the compost bin and debated upon turning around to go cuddle up under a pile of blankets on her couch.  She had a lovely, thick, snuggly, hand-crocheted afghan up there.  It was super old and super soft from being washed so many times.   

Except Janey needed her laptop.  So she’d definitely have to go into the lab.  And once she was there… well…  

It was all very ‘If you give a moose a muffin’.

Not that Jane would keep Darcy from resting if that’s what she needed.  It was more… Darcy wouldn’t tell anyone that she needed the rest.  

“Good morning, Darcy…” Vision said as he glided into the room.  Everything about him screamed Futuristic-Tin-Man, except the fact that he was as smooth as butter.  In both motor skills and speech.  No oil can needed.

“It _is_ morning, I dunno what’s so good about it…” she said wistfully.  

He tilted his head sympathetically.  Wanda had been coaching him on how to appear more human.  It was kind of working.  He did seem more empathic and less uncanny valley.  

“Are you ill, Ms. Lewis?” he asked, lowering his voice in a way that might have made her laugh under any other circumstances.  It was obvious he thought this was a scheduled stop at menstruation station, instead of a surprise break-down at influenza pass.

Why all the train puns?  Her brain needed to rest.  

“I think it’s the flu,” she replied.  “Bunch of adorable brats snotted all over me last week.”  

“Why aren’t you in bed?” Vision asked.   

_Excellent question…_

“I have to run this down to Jane…”  She lifted the laptop slightly.  

Reaching out, he gingerly took the tech from her.  “I’ll do that.  You should go home.  You need adequate rest and clear fluids, Ms. Lewis. Perhaps some vitamin C.”  

“I will go home and drink some orange juice on my couch if you’ll make sure Janey gets that laptop immediately.”  

“Dr. Foster will have it momentarily.”  Vision turned and glided away.  “Do feel better, Darcy!”  he called over his shoulder.  

Sighing in relief, Darcy turned back towards the common area kitchen and opened the fridge.  She filched a bottle of cranberry juice from the bottom shelf.  She felt more like cranberry than orange anyway.   

And finally, she began the slow trudge back to her apartment.

She really did like living here.  No expenses to speak of.  But she did have like a dozen or so enhanced individuals depending on her.  That was a lot sometimes.    

She cracked open the juice and drank some, practically moaning as the tart liquid hit her tongue and realizing belatedly that she should have waited because now she was going to have to take her temperature under her arm if she wanted to get an accurate reading.  

Sick Darcy was not the best Darcy, that was for sure.  

Hell, what was she saying?  Darcy was _always_ the Best Darcy.  Sick Darcy just forgot things.  

She grabbed a thermometer from her medicine cabinet, peeling her sweater and t-shirt off one arm to stick it under.  

She sipped awkwardly at her juice, spilling it a little when the thermometer beeped.  

Ninety-nine point eight.  

Yikes.  Not great.  

She tugged her sweater back on, and then back off, because she had forgotten to put her t-shirt on.  And then she just yanked both of them off and tumbled to the couch, yanking the throw blanket over her body as she lay there.  

She was just dozing off when her phone beeped.  

It took a feat of major engineering to yank it out of her back pocket, but when she did, she groaned.  

It was a text.  

From Steve.  

 _“Can’t wait for our date tonight, doll.  Bucky’s so excited too!”_ It was followed by a string of emojis that made her simultaneously grin and rue the day she’d ever shown Steve Rogers how to emoji.  

Of course, that grin didn’t last.  Because _groan_.  

How could she have forgotten her date with Bucky and Steve tonight?  

It was only the single most exciting thing that had happened to her in a while, not counting their first three dates.  And she _definitely_ wasn’t counting Puente Antiguo or the Dark Elf invasion.  Those were straight up terrifying.  

This?  This was exciting.  Nail-bitingly, heart-skip-a-beat-ingly, cheeks flushing-ly exciting.  

And her flu-addled brain had forgotten.  

Now she was going to have to cancel. She let her head fall down against one of her furry throw pillows.  It tickled her nose and made her sneeze.  

Pulling her knees up against her stomach, she let her phone slip from her fingers and thump on the carpeted floor.  She’d give herself five minutes of wallowing, and then, she’d call her super soldier boyfriends to cancel.  

Did she mention _groan_?

* * *

 

Steve frowned, staring down at the screen on his phone. Apparently, Darcy had read the message, but she hadn’t responded yet.  And now Steve's face was all contorted in a look that read ' _What does this mean?_ '  

“A watched phone never rings…”  Bucky teased, extending his leg to jostle Steve’s. He then propped it up on Steve’s knee.  He wasn’t sure who was the most adorable party in their threesome:  Darcy or Steve.  Given that Darcy wasn’t here at the moment, the title was going to Steve.

Steve’s lips pursed quizzically. “Just texted Darcy to confirm plans and she hasn’t answered back.”  

“Wouldn’t that mean there are no changes to the originally agreed-upon plans?” Bucky drawled, leaning back on the sofa and staring up at the ceiling.  The popcorn pattern was soothing, and Stevie’s mood was starting to leech over into Bucky’s.  If this was going to remain a cute situation, Bucky needed to _not_ panic about the meaning of Darce’s non-reply.

Because there was nothing to panic over.  They’d had three dates already and Darcy was the one who had called _them_ this time, so it made absolutely no sense for her to give them the cold shoulder now.      

“Normally, yeah… but these are _romantic_ plans, Buck.  Some kind of confirmation is usually needed.” Steve’s brow furrowed even deeper, giving him that grumpy look that Bucky actually loved.  Not that he didn’t love _all_ of Stevie’s looks, but there was just something about Grumpy Steve.   

“Maybe she’s at work and can’t answer right away…” Bucky offered.  “She seemed really enthusiastic, there’s no reason she would cancel on us now.”  

The crease in Steve’s forehead disappeared instantly when he smiled.  “You know, you’re probably right.”  

“I’m _definitely_ right.  The sooner you realize that, the better, you punk.”

Steve placed his phone on the table and pushed Bucky’s leg off his.  It hit the floor with a thud.  “What time did we say we’d meet her again?”  

Bucky chuckled.  “Six tonight.”  

“And what time is it now?” He leaned back, propping one leg on the coffee table.

“You’re the one with your phone out.”  

“Yeah, but it’s all the way over there, now…”  Steve pointed vaguely at the phone beside his foot.  

Bucky sighed and pulled his out of his pocket.  “It is all of eleven A.M.  Did you want to get dressed and wait creepily outside her apartment for seven hours?”  

“No, I was thinking we could go buy her a present.”  

Bucky pondered that for a moment.  “Sounds a lot better than my suggestion.”  

* * *

 

“Do you think we went overboard?”  Bucky asked, glancing down at the bag in his hand as he pressed the doorbell.  

The bag was from Lush.  And it was heavy as hell.  It seemed that in lieu of making a decision concerning gifts for Darcy, they opted instead to just… _buy_ everything in sight that they thought she’d like.  

“Probably…” Steve said with a slight nod.  “But hopefully that won’t work against us here…”

“You know, I have a sneaking suspicion she likes us…”  Bucky said, grinning as he pressed the doorbell once more.  

There was a muffled thump inside as Darcy opened the door.   She looked like she’d just woken up, her hair was all mussed and she didn’t have her glasses on.  She squinted at them and her face fell. “Oh no, our date!”

Steve would have laughed at the irony if he wasn’t so worried about Darcy.  He and Bucky glanced at each other.  Steve gulped before he responded.  “Is this a bad time?”  

“I’ve got the flu!” she lamented, leaning against the doorframe.  “I meant to text you and cancel, but I fell asleep instead!  I’m so sorry, guys… I just… ” she paused, covering her nose and sneezing violently into her hand.  She groaned afterward, slumping lower against the door.  

Bucky reached out with his cybernetic arm, placing the palm against her forehead. Darcy leaned into his touch.  “Doll, you’re burning up... you might not wanna be alone if you’re this sick…”  

She sneezed again, and Steve reached for her, slipping his arm around her waist and leading her back into the safety of her apartment.  “I’ll be fine…” she assured them.  “I’ll call if I need anything…”

 _Like you called to cancel earlier?_ Steve thought to himself.   

“Have you eaten?” Bucky asked.  “You said you’ve been sleeping all day.  Do you have soup here?  Do you want soup?”  

“I’ll be fine…” she repeated, nodding once.  

“We don’t have to stay if we’re making you uncomfortable, Darce…” Steve said.  “We can call Jane for you.”  

“Yeah, want us to call Jane?” Bucky asked, brushing the hair from her face.  

She looked between them, swallowing thickly.  “Are you guys _sure_ you don’t mind hanging around?”

They both cracked smiles at that.  “Of course not, sweetheart…”  Steve said, leading her over to the couch. She felt so frail in his arms.  “We had the evening free, after all…” The joke earned him a weak smile from their girl, so cheesy or not, it was worth it.  

“Yeah, we can’t get sick anyway.  So nobody better to take care of you…” Bucky added.   

Darcy sat down, pulling Steve onto the seat with her.  She practically curled up into his lap, her head against his chest.  “You’re doing great so far…”

Steve wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her fast against him as she shivered.  Bucky reached for the blanket crumpled up on the opposite end of the couch, spreading it out over her before turning to walk towards the kitchen.  

Steve heard the fridge open.  Cabinet doors.  And then he heard Bucky’s footsteps as they retreated to the front door.  “I’ll be right back, heading to the store,” he called.  

“I have Campbell’s in the cabinet,” Darcy mumbled weakly against Steve’s chest.  

Luckily, Bucky’s super hearing picked up her mumbles, and Steve could hear the grin in his voice when he responded.  “Campbell’s isn’t gonna make ya better, Darce.  The only thing that’s gonna make you better is homemade noodle soup.  I just gotta go pick up a few things.”  

The door shut before Darcy could voice her rebuttal, which was really just a muffled groan into Steve’s chest.  

He tilted his head down, slotting it over the top of hers as he rubbed her back. “Bucky’s noodle soup is a miracle cure, Darce.  He used to make it for me all the time when I was sick.”  

She turned her head so she was more or less facing him.  “Back when you were smaller?”  

He nodded. “Yeah.”  

“He doesn’t have to go to the trouble…”  

“I used to tell him that too.  Truth be told, it just makes him do more.  You’re gonna end up with Parker House rolls and ice cream sundaes if you keep that up.”  

The soft exhale of air was meant to be a laugh, but all it did was make her start coughing.

“Shhh…” Steve murmured, holding her close until the coughing stopped.  “Me and Bucky bought you an obscene amount of Lush products earlier today, would a bath be something you’d be interested in?”  

“God, please…” she whispered, allowing  Steve to deposit her on the end of the couch.  

“One bath, in your absolutely enormous bathtub, coming right up…”  

* * *

 

The bath was _perfect_ .  Fragrant (even with her stuffy nose), soothing, and just hot enough that the steam helped her breath without making her feel overheated.   _And_ it quelled the shivers that she’d started having.  

Her fellas were pretty much the best. Homemade dinner, couch cuddles, _and_ a bagful of Lush goodies…   Steve was totally right, that big bag of Lush products was obscenely stuffed to the brim.  

Not all porn was naked guys and muscles.  Sometimes, it was dinner and bath products.

 _Seriously though, guys.  This porn IS appreciated…_  She got out of the tub slowly, happy to find that her equilibrium was returning, or maybe it was the perfect temperature of the bath that had her fever reducing or something.  

She dried off by the vanity, pulling on the clean pajamas that Steve had left for her there.  This wasn’t exactly how she wanted to spend their fourth date, but try as she might, she couldn’t find a damn thing to complain about.

Other than the fever and aches.  And chills.  And the coughing.  And the sneezing.  

But objectively, this was a good date.

She was comfy, wearing her flannel pjs and fresh from a bath.  

There was yummy food soon to be cooking out in the kitchen, with Bucky making actual facts _homemade_ noodles.  She’d just thought he was making the soup from scratch.  But nope.  It turned out he was making the noodles from scratch too.  

And Steve wasn’t kidding about the Parker House rolls or the ice cream sundaes either.  

By the time she was safely wrapped around Steve again on the couch, Bucky was busting back into the kitchen, laden down with grocery bags.  And the ice cream was the first thing he put away.

It took a while for Bucky to cook everything, but Darcy dozed on Steve while he started watching something on Netflix.  She wasn’t sure what show it was; she was in and out of consciousness, but it was apparently funny because Steve’s chest would shake with laughter every so often.  

But soon enough, _or_ not soon enough, again, she wasn’t sure… she was being handed a bowl of hot soup.  Not boiling hot, Bucky must have let it cool before handing it to her.  

He sat down beside them on the couch, and she sat up on the sofa cushion to eat her soup, propping her legs in his lap to give Steve a break.  

The soup was amazing.  Carrots, celery, parsnips… chicken and those gorgeous noodles.  Her nose was stuffy, so she couldn’t fully appreciate the fresh herbs she saw floating in the broth, but she could tell by the look of it that it tasted _amazingly_ good.  The noodles were perfectly cooked.  Bucky was right.  Campbell's just wasn’t going to cut it anymore.  

“This soup has ruined me for all other soup…” Darcy informed him, leaning over to kiss his cheek.  Of course, he was a life-ruiner and had to turn at the last second, pressing his lips to hers.  

“ _Sick_ ,” she said, gesturing to herself.  

“ _Enhanced_ ,” Bucky replied, gesturing to himself in a mirror of hers.

Steve chose that moment to sit back down beside her, his own bowl of soup in one hand and a plate of the fluffiest rolls Darcy had ever seen in the other.

“ _Carbs_ …” she whimpered, leaning forward to grab one.  

“If only you looked at us like that…”  Bucky teased.  

“I _do_ , it just usually happens behind your back.  And when I’m not _sick_.”  She shot him a look and took a huge monster bite of the roll.  

“Feeling better?”  Steve asked, his hand coming to rest on the small of her back.  

“Yeah, actually.  What gave it away?” She asked, grinning in his direction.  “Not one-hundred percent, but maybe like… sixty percent.”

“It’s the soup,” Bucky insisted.  “It cures what ails ya, doll.”  

“It’s chicken broth and vegetables, Buck…”  Steve said in a tone that told her it wasn’t the first time they’d had this conversation.  

“It’s not that, it’s the ll--”  Bucky coughed mid-sentence, staring down at his lap immediately as he tried to regain his composure.  Poor guy, the look on his face was kind of adorable, and as much as Darcy usually loved messing with him, she wasn’t one-hundred percent.  And sixty-percent Darcy had a lot less salt than one-hundred percent Darcy.  

She set her bowl on the coffee table and reached for Bucky’s hand.  “It’s the love.  You can say it.”  

“I mean… we haven’t… we haven’t said that yet.”  

“So say it,” she said, squeezing his fingers.  “Then we will have said it.”  Steve’s hand appeared on her thigh and she reached for it with her other hand.  

“It’s the love.  There’s love in there.  Because I love you…” he trailed off, looking over her shoulder at Steve.  “ _Both_ of you.”  

“Likewise,”  Steve replied, his thumb stroking over hers.  “Love both of you… and I’m so glad you’re feeling better, Darcy-doll.”  

“Better, not well,” she mumbled, leaning back against Bucky.  “And to run the risk of sounding like a bandwagon hopper, I love both of you idiots too.  Both of you and your too-much-money-spending-at-Lush, and your homemade-love-noodle soup…”  

“Love-noodle?”  Bucky chuckled.

“Yep.  Love-noodle. That’s what it’s called now.  Love-Noodle-Soup.  I will be requiring it every time I’m sick from now until the end of time. Love-Noodle Soup and Star-Spangled Couch Cuddles.”

Steve scooted closer, “Think we can manage that, Buck?”  

“Yeah, I’d say that’s definitely doable.”    

**Author's Note:**

> Leave me some sugar, you guys. I have a heckuva sweet tooth. <3


End file.
